


When the road darkens

by ShotgunOpera (emmadilla)



Series: Ponyboy's musings [1]
Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Grief, Writing, dealing with death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 10:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11183634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/ShotgunOpera
Summary: Post-book, Ponyboy contemplates life without his friends and gets an unexpected revelation from a book.





	When the road darkens

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a work I posted a LONG time ago on ffnet. I'm probably going to eventually transfer everything, but probably not all at once. My name there was ShotgunOpera, I'm the same person, so please don't report this because I am me! I have not edited these works at all since they were first posted, so there may be mistakes. I'm not overly concerned, though, just keep in mind that these stories are almost ten years old now, so take it with a grain of salt. :)

* * *

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The handle on the tub's faucet wasn't turned quite all the way off. I reached forward to tighten it, scrunching my knees against my chest to reach it. I then laid back against the tub, eyes looking to the ceiling, the rest of the world blocked out.

I had drawn a bath in the attempt to calm down and sort out my thoughts so I could tackle that theme but instead my mind was drawing a blank. My thoughts had been racing before when I was writing the first part, but now that I was working my way towards the middle the words seemed to elude me.

Steam rose from the bathwater and I drew circles and curves on the surface and the water moved and rippled in the wake of my fingers. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the rim of the tub, trying to get my thoughts moving – trying to think of the very things that I had been trying to block out.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes as the thoughts slowly started to form in my mind. It was that night, after we left the drive-in, when me and Johnny were at the lot and he was talking about how he wanted to die. My heart had clenched in my chest when he had talked like that; little did I know at the time that in a week he would be dead. _Damnit, Johnny, why did you have to die?_

I choked back a sob as I sat up. I rested my elbows on my knees and held my head in my hands as I struggled to get control of myself enough to get up and leave the bathroom. A few deep breathes later and I reached over and pulled the plug. I didn't want to end up all prune-y and I was starting to get that way.

The towel felt scratchy as I pulled it around my waist. Soda had probably done the laundry last time; he always forgot the fabric softener. I absent-mindedly let it fall off as I walked into my room before I grabbed the closest pair of underwear and jeans that looked clean and pulled them on. I heard the usual ruckus going on in the living room and I was sure that Steve and Soda were going to break the coffee table one of these days with their antics. I heard Darry's stern voice telling them to cut it out and I couldn't help the smirk that crossed my face.

I didn't feel like joining in on the rough-housing – I hadn't felt like doing a lot after what had happened – so I opted to lay down on the bed that I shared with Soda. I rested the back of my head on my hands and looked at the ceiling, my mind remarking on the patterns that the paint had seemed to form. I sighed and closed my eyes, willing the thoughts to start formulating in my head despite their painful nature.

I tried to remember that night, in the lot, the smell of the smoke from the fire and the crunch of dry grass under my feet. We had been talking – what about I couldn't remember – when he said those words: _I'll kill myself or something_. Panic and fear had coursed through my body in a matter of seconds and if it hadn't been for Johnny's sake I probably would have hyperventilated. Johnny was my best friend, my buddy; we were probably the closest people in the gang besides me and Soda. I didn't know how I could ever live without his shadow by my side and the possibility of something happening to him was something I didn't like to think about.

Now, though, that possibility was reality. Johnny was gone and I was going to have to live without him. Goddamnit, life wasn't fair and I just wanted to scream to the world, _Why?_

My cheeks felt wet and it took a few minutes to process that I was crying. I rolled over onto my side and clutched my pillow as I tried to not make any noise; I didn't want my brothers or any of the gang to see me like this. I had to try to be strong, like Darry, but I discovered that it wasn't as easy as my brother made it look.

As I laid there trying to gather my thoughts, a book on the bookshelf caught my eye. It was a copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , a book my parents had bought for me last year and I had subsequently devoured. I hadn't read it since then, though, and it beckoned to me.

Tentatively I reached out and took it, admiring the artwork on the cover before I flipped the book open to a random page.

Almost immediately a revelation stared me in the face, and I sat there dumbfounded for a moment as I read that line.

_Faithless is he who says farewell when the road darkens._

Fresh tears sprang to my eyes as I realized what it meant to me. According to his letter, Johnny had been at peace with his fate, it was me who was struggling with it. At first I hadn't even wanted to accept his passing and now, for the most part, I simply blocked it from my mind. I didn't want to face reality without him; I had wanted to stop living, just as Darry had pointed out. The road had darkened for me and I had wanted to give up and say farewell, myself. It had seemed so complicated before but my situation was laid out clearly here, along with a solution.

As I dried my eyes, I reached for my notebook and pen and started to write with a renewed fervor. I wasn't going to lose my faith.


End file.
